


Difficult Choices

by techbilt



Series: Rules and Protocols Holiday Gift Fics 2018 [7]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Child Death, Mechpreg, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/techbilt/pseuds/techbilt
Summary: Jazz and Prowl are caught in a relationship, which is a strict violation of Section 4, subsection 3, article 4: A ranking officer should not fraternize with a subordinate.  But there is a complication when it comes to plea deals they had made in regards to breaking this rule.gift forSharpshooterbluestreak on Tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

“Section 4, subsection 3, article 4: A ranking officer should not fraternize with a subordinate.  Prowl, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Prowl wasn’t sure what to say in all honesty.  He had never broken a rule quite like this one.  He wasn’t sure what his punishment would be or what Jazz’s punishment would be.  Optimus and the rest of the head of the departments had only found out about Prowl and Jazz rendezvous a few weeks ago.  They had been ordered to come into court, determine if any abuse of power had been performed or if favoritism had been displayed.  

“Well Prowl?”

Prowl took a large intake before answering.  Jazz either already had his meeting or he would soon after Prowls.  Both of them had been pulled from active duty leaving Smokescreen and Tailbreaker in charge of Tactical and Spec Ops respectively.  Prowl was curious to see how that was fairing, Prowl wasn’t sure if the Autobots could live without him or not. He knew for certain though that Jazz was much more of an asset to the Autobots.

“Prowl.  Answer.” demanded Prime.  Prowl wasn’t sure he had ever heard Prime use such a tone on him before.

“I have nothing to say to defend myself,” answered Prowl.  The table of department heads gasped. He honestly didn’t have any way to defend himself nor did he believe he  _ should _ defend himself.  “We’ve been at war for millions of years,” added Prowl.  “After millions of years 4-3-4 is obsolete, there is no good reason we should keep it.”

“Yes there is Prowl.  That rule is there to ensure that none of the officers abuse their authority.  You of all people should know this! You accuse me of abusing my authority at least once a week,” said Optimus as he leaned back in his chair, his digit tapping on the steel table.

“4-3-4 was also enacted with the assumption that there would be civilians to ‘play house’ with.  Prime, that’s not the case any more. You, Jazz, Ratchet, and I are the top most ranked Autobots.  In accordance with 4-3-4 you are allowed to fraternize with no one - Elita included. She’s an officer but she ranks lower the Ironhide.”

“We don't have to abide by 4-3-4 because we were dating before the war.”

“Except 4-3-4 doesn’t have any protections unless you two are bonded.  Are you bonded Optimus Prime?”

“He ain't the one on trial here Prowl.  You are,” stated Ironhide.

“It doesn’t matter if the rule is obsolete or not the rule is still in place and should be followed until the Autobot code committee can get together and review so long as you file a rule change request form with a valid reason and they’ll get back to you in 6 quartexes so you can make your case,” explained Ultra Magnus.

Prowl sighed annoyed by the sudden butt in of bureaucracy, even as a police officer Prowl found making or changing laws to be far too slow for a planet whose indigenous species changed as their most noticeable characteristic.

“When did you two start dating?” asked Optimus.

“A few weeks after I was rescued from CTI.”

“Did you ever receive special treatment as a result of your relationship with Jazz?”

“No, of course not”  Prowl was a bit offended at the question.  He had never received special treatment from Jazz while they were dating.  Prowl is SIC, he out ranked Jazz, unless. “You think I got in as Second because of our relationship don't you.”  Prowl didn’t phrase it as a question. It was a statement he already knew what was going through the Primes helm.

“Well it makes sense doesn’t it Prowl?” asked Optimus.  “I mean Jazz has been with the Autobots much longer than you have.  You were still a Captain when you were rescued from CTI, then you rise through the rank to General.”  Optimus had started off calm but was slowly growing more agitated. Prowl had never seen him like this.  “ **I** think that you’re lying.  That you did receive special treatment from Jazz to get into your position and I also think you two were dating a lot longer than you said you were.  I even think you two committed Bribery.”

The other department heads gasped.  Prowls door wings shot up, his spark skipped a beat.  “Those are serious allegations Optimus Prime. You realise that you are accusing me  **and** Jazz of a  **felony** .”

“I am aware these are serious allegations Prowl,” answered Prime.  His tone harsh and unforgiving. “Are you aware?”

“I was a cop Optimus Prime, I know exactly what these kinds of charges mean.”  Prowl crossed his arms over his chest plates, his door wings stiff posture signaling that he too meant business.  “Are we going to bring these allegations to court? Have a jury of my peers? I don’t think we could find a jury that would be unbiased.  I don’t even believe you all would be able to make an unbiased decision.”

The department heads all looked to the Prime, hoping he had an answer to Prowls legitimate point.  They were 2 millions years into a civil war, everyone at this point knew everyone else. It would be hard if not impossible to find a truly unbiased jury and judge to preside over proceedings for such a misconduct.  “While true we have options for you Prowl.”

“Options?  What kind of options?”

“We’re looking to give you a deal.  Like you said, its unlikely we will be able to find a jury that is unbiased.  We have strong evidence that you’ve broken rule 4-3-4, and Bribed a superior officer in order to get into your position as SIC.  Our deal to you is that you will  _ not _ be dishonorably discharged  _ if _ you step down as SIC, you will retain your position as head of Tactical, you will spend a night in the brig, and you will need to break things off with Jazz.”

Prowl was quiet for a while.  There was a lot that had been said, he didn’t know what kind of evidence they had against him, he wasn’t sure how credible it was and he wasn’t sure he wanted to give up on him and Jazz.  He was fine with being demoted to head of tactical rather than SIC & head of tactical. The two jobs were a nightmare to be run side to side with one another. Prowl was more than happy to give it up.  “I want to speak with Jazz.”

“No.  You need to make a decision Prowl.”

“I have a **right** to counsel Prime.  I want to speak with Jazz, **now**.”  He was demanding he wasn’t about to be bamboozled out of his position.  He wanted to talk to Jazz, get his input on the situation. Prowl was well aware they needed Jazz a lot more than they needed Prowl.  He wasn’t exactly expendable but they could afford to piss Prowl off.

Optimus looked to his fellow department heads.  “Prowl, he’s already agreed to his terms in exchange for no dishonorable discharge, he’s agreed to terminate the relationship already.  He will be keeping his position as TIC and Spec ops commander.”

Prowl was surprised to hear that Jazz was willing to sell out their relationship like that.  But if it was what he wanted then who was Prowl to argue?

“I accept your proposal.  My resignation as SIC is effective immediately.”

“Ironhide you will take Prowl to the Brig as he agreed,” ordered Optimus. 

The large red van placed a firm hand on the black and white sports cars shoulder.  Leading out of the room and to the brig. “Sorry Prowl.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” answered Prowl.  “I got myself into this mess and I should have known better.  For the record though, I was never privy to any special treatment from Jazz when he out ranked me.  We kept it clean. He had his second deal with me and I had my second deal with him. We stayed out of each other's way professionally.”

“Prowl-”

“I know Jazz nominated you for SIC when it came time, then after you denied Magnus was nominated, I don’t know who nominated me but I know for a fact it wasn’t Jazz.”

FInally they walked into the brig, Ironhide opening the cell before Prowl walked in, closing it and locking the tactician in.  “Sorry Prowl. Again. Orders are orders.”

Prowl turned around in the cell and his door wings hung lower than they normally were.  “Ironhide can I ask a favor? Ex-cop to ex-cop?” Prowl saw the red mech nod. “I  _ need  _ to speak with Jazz it’s important. Tell him Praxis.  He’ll know what it means.”

Prowl watched as Ironhide walked away.  He hoped that he would get to talk to Jazz sooner rather than later.  They needed to talk - no matter what Optimus Prime and the others wanted out of him they had a complication that needed to me taken care of.  He had hoped the comm blocking systems in the brig would have been down seeing as Prowl was the only one in there, but no. THis was supposed to be a punishment.  He wasn’t allowed to chat with the few friends he had.

It would be a few moments before Jazz would come down to talk to him.  He paced for a while, finally deciding on sitting on the berth. Then laying down, his hand rested over his abdominal plates and his door wings flat against the surface of the berth.  His other hand running lightly over his abdominal plates. He wasn’t even sure if Jazz would be able to get into see him. He might have been sent on a mission immediately after his hearing.  

Eventually moments turned into hours and hours turned into a day, Prowl woke to the sound of the cell bars opening, Jazz hadn’t come to visit him.  Jazz hadn’t been by to talk. “First shift has started, sir.”

Prowl nodded and got up off the berth and out of the cell.  GUess he’d have to wait for his break to try and catch Jazz.  His frame was sore, the brig berths weren’t made for comfort and that was intentional but he might have to talk to ratchet about getting him some pain killers.  But again it would have to wait for Prowl to be able to talk to Jazz. The complication was more important that Prowls aching frame.

THe morning went far too slow for Prowls liking. He couldn’t concentrate, not for long anyway.  He had resigned as Second in command and a new one needed to be appointed, he had assumed that the voting for that had already begun, leaving out Jazz and Prowls votes as a punishment.  There was another department head meeting at the end of the week. Jazz and Prowl had been on the forwarding list. Prowl tapped his digits against the desk in rhythm to a tune only Prowl could hear, some polyhexian melody Jazz had hummed at one point or another.  FInally Prowl gathered up the courage to write something to get Jazz’s attention.

> _ To: Jazz. _
> 
> _ Subject: Code - Praxis _
> 
> _ Jazz, we need to talk immediately.  I know what we agreed to, but there is a complication in breaking things off.  The next chance we get we have to talk privately. _

Prowl hoped that some form of communication would work in getting Jazz’s attention.  This issue was only going to get bigger over time, and depending on what they wanted to do they were in a time crunch.

He sighed letting some of the anxiety release from his frame before it would all pile back up.  He tried to continue working but still couldn’t focus, the urgency of speaking to Jazz far too important than approving or denying tactical plans for different missions.  

Eventually the day ended, it seemed like Prowl had been working for eons before his shift ended and he was walking to the rec room then to his own room.  He wasn’t sure why he picked up a cube of energon the smell made him sick, he needed fuel but knew that as soon as he was able to he’s just purge it. His small quarters held very few furnishings.  A desk, a bed, wash racks, a book shelf. He sat the cube down at the desk and grabbed a book only just sitting down when a knock sounded at his door.

He sat up on the bed his door wings fluttering a little, nervous almost that it would be Jazz on the side of the door.  “Come in!”

The door slid open revealing the mech on the other side.  Jazz. “Hey Prowl. You know we can’t-”

“I know but Jazz this is important, we have to figure out what we want to do.”

“Prowl its already been decided for us-”

“No Jazz-”

“Prowl we can’t.”

“I’m carrying.”

Jazz’s spark stopped in its casing for several seconds.  He had to have heard wrong. “What?”

“I’m carrying.  My Buffer must have malfunctioned.”

The blue and white mech walked to the berth he was familiar with.  He sat down putting his head in his hands. Letting the information Prowl had just revealed wander into his frame.  “So what should we do? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” answered Prowl.  “It seems wrong to abort, with our numbers so low.  But it seems wrong to keep it too with a war going.”

“Maybe the war won't get too bad?  We can send you back to Praxis? YOu can have the sparkling?”

“What about you?  Would you go with me?” asked Prowl.

Jazz sighed.  They had just has a huge misconduct hearing. “I-I can’t Prowl.  I’m the best operative that we’ve got. I can’t leave. Look let's wait on this until after the officers meeting, we’ll decide what to do then?”

Prowl looked to Jazz, this was a lot that they had to decide on.  Where their relationship would really go from here what would happen if they stayed with the Autobots, would this change the plea bargain they had taken?  Would Prowl have to step down completely? There was a lot of things up in the air.

“Prowler?”

“Yeah.  Lets wait until the officers meeting.  But- uh. I’m going to see Ratchet, we can talk to him about our options.”

“Yeah Prowler I want to be there,” stated Jazz he pressed a kiss to the side of Prowls helm.  “I still love you. You know that right?”

“Yeah Jazz I know,” replied Prowl.  “Tomorrow medbay mid shift.”

“I’ll be there,” promised Jazz.  

Prowl watched as Jazz left his quarters.  Leaving for his own room. Prowl laid back on the berth and fell into a light recharge.

***

Mid second shift had come far too slowly.  Prowl sat in the medical bay waiting room, Jazz standing next to him leaning against a bulkhead.  

“Prowl?” asked Ratchet standing at the waiting room.  Prowl stood and walked toward Ratchet Jazz walking with him. “Jazz?”

“You can make fun of me later, we need to talk,” stated Prowl.  “ With Jazz.”

Ratchet lead the two into a private exam room.  “So… Whats wrong? It’s got to be bad if you’re here with out me hounding you about it.”

“I’m carrying.”

Ratchet was silent for a good portion of time.  “Is this why you asked to speak with Jazz in your meeting?”  Prowl only nodded as Ratchet dug through the drawer of instruments, pulling on out.  “Well I guess lets see what we have going on with you then we can talk about your options.”

Ratchet put the instrument to work and attached it to a portable screen.  After a few minutes of Ratchet attempting to get a good picture he finally put the instrument away.  “Well thats a sparkling alright. DO you guys know what you want to do? Do you want me to list your options?”

“What are our options if we keep it?” asked Prowl.

“Prowl you’d be placed on medical leave, possibly be medically discharged, re-labeled as a civillian here on Jazz’s request, if you two decide to stay together.  You can be medically discharged and live your life back in Praxis have the sparkling, raise it or adopt it out. If you don’t wish to keep it we can terminate the gestation.  Continue as you were in a way.” Ratchet went quiet once more, letting his words sink in. 

Prowl glanced to Jazz both looking clueless as to what they wanted to do.  “I’ll leave you two to discuss things over,” offered Ratchet. “Jazz, come get me when you’ve both made a decision.”

With that the two watched as Ratchet left for the two of them to decide on what they wanted to do.

Prowl sits up on the med berth, looking at Jazz.  “I kind of want to keep it,” admitted Prowl.

“You’re sure?” asked Jazz.  “You’re ready to give up your career in the Autobots for this?”

“Jazz, my career in the Autobots is already over.  I’ve been demoted, no ones going to trust me again.  The Autobots need you. Do you want to be apart of the sparklings life?”

“Of course I do Prowler, but this base - this war its not a place to raise a sparkling.”

“It can be, I won't be a soldier anymore, you heard Ratchet.  I’ll be a civilian here by your family request. After that I’ll just be a stay-at-home creator.”

“You’d be safe in Praxis.”

“Would we ever see you?”

“Every chance at leave I get I’d come visit you.  I’ll be there for the sparklings emergence I promise.”

“Okay.” Prowl rubbed the area where they sparkling was currently developing.  “I’ll go to Praxis then.”

“I’ll go get Ratchet then,” stated Jazz.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Praxis is attacked.

The war raged on.   Prowl was aware that it was unlikely that the war would end peacefully.  Megatron wasn’t the kind to just give up, he wasn’t the kind to live and let live.  He wanted to ensure that his people would be free, at least that was what Prowl had figured now that he was a civilian.  

His frame was swollen, the sparkling having survived this long in a war torn Cybertron.  Prowls badges removed, his rank stripped. Now he worked in Praxus, a neutral haven during the war, once more it was Prowls home.  His and Jazz’s sparkling was due any day now. THe due date getting closer and closer, and war was becoming more and more hostile. 

{ _Encrypted Comm Call: Jazz._ }

This was the only way they could communicate.  It was the only safe way for the lovers to communicate.  It was dangerous to let the Decpeticons know where the former SIC had gone and the reason for him to come to the neutral city.  

{  _ Prowler, Things are getting a little close to the collar up here.  Prime and Elita might not be able to approve my Sire leave.  _ }

Jazz sounded genuinely sorry.  Since moving out here Prowl had done nothing but worry about him.  This was war there was going to be a day Jazz wouldn’t return. WHere he would be missing and they would never find him.  Prowl knew the odds with Jazz’s current function with the Autobots. It was a matter of when, not if.

It had been a tone and word combination Jazz had used so many times.  They hadn’t seen each other since the day Prowl was stripped of his rank and badges, sent off to Praxis to ‘atone’ for his ‘sins’.  It might not have been accurate but it sure as pit felt like he was being punished for loving Jazz and having this sparkling.

“But Jazz-”

{  _ I know Prowler.  I wanted-I wanted to be there.  And It’s the same excuse, but… but I can’t.  The ‘Cons have something big planned. We need every available servo for it.  It’s big Prowl. I can’t really say much more but it’s going to change the course of the war.  _ }

Prowl looks away, and not for the first time he’s terrified.  It shows in his doors. Between this sparkling and Jazz saying the Decepticons are up to something big the pit of his tanks churn uneasily.  

“Jazz, I-I don’t know if I can do this without you with me.”

He knew Prowl was terrified not just for Jazz but for himself as well.  This was a completely new experience for Prowl, something he had never done before.  Carrying was dangerous, there were good possibilities that either Prowl and the sparkling would perish, or one or the other.  Jazz himself couldn’t imagine going through the pains of carrying alone let alone in a delivery room, where yours and your sparklings life hung in a delicate balancing act.  It would be painful, it would be terrifying.

{  _ I know- _ }

“No, you don’t Jazz,” shouted Prowl.  “You  _ don’t  _ know.  You don't even know what's going on with the Sparkling.  You haven't seen pictures, you haven’t seen the medical file.  You don’t know the name of the Doctor who will be bringing your sparkling into this world!”

Jazz jumped, this was different than their other arguments.  This had Prowl on the verge of tears, it wasn’t easy to tell, but Jazz knew Prowl well enough.  This wasn’t a misunderstanding driven by frame changes, this was an actual argument they needed to have.  Jazz only wished he could be there with Prowl right now.

“Jazz,” begged Prowl.  “I’m really scared, I need you here.  Frag the Autobots just this once. You’ve given them so much already.  Blues first picture, the first real wellness visit. The sound of his sparkbeat.  They say I’m most likely going to have complications. Jazz-”

Jazz could only watch helplessly as golden tears fell from Prowls face.  The Praxians frame trembled his door wings the lowest he had ever seen them.Jazz has to take time to save face.  He wants to be there. Given half a chance he’d be in Praxis tomorrow. But the reality of the matter was he  _ couldn’t _ .  No one was allowed leave, those that had been on it were taken off.  No Exceptions. If you were able to fight you were on duty till further notice.

{  _ I want to Prowl.  I’ve wanted to be there, I tried to plan out leave times, but things kept getting in the way.  I’m sorry. I would give my spark to be with you right now. To talk to Tune through your frame, to just fragging cuddle with you, but I just  _ **_can’t_ ** _.  Too much is at stake here.   _ }

There is a pause as Prowl mutes the voice feed, he looks away from the screen.  Prowls not sure who he’s talking to or why but Jazz nods and with regret written on his face he turns back to Prowl.  

{  _ Prowler babe I gotta go.  Call me when Tune’s on the way alright?  _ }

Prowls not even given a chance to respond before Jazz logs off and Prowls left crying at the terminal.  All these months of stress and loneliness finally catching up with him. 

***

“This is jacked,” complained Jazz.  

Mirage nodded across from him in the booth.  The rec room was louder than normal, Ironhide and Warhide causing some kind of scuffle near the center of the room.  A crowd gathered around the two. “So Prime said no huh?” He watched Jazz bring the cube to his mouth, glare at Mirage and set the cube back down.  It was going to be one of those talks.

“I wouldn’t be here if Prime said I could go,” stated Jazz disappointed.  “Prowls getting induced in two days, even if I left now there was no guarantee I’d even make it to Praxis in time.  I’d be cutting it close at top speed.”

Jazz rubbed the protoform under his visor, the cube in front of him still mostly full.  “We really ground the axel Mirage, before the meeting, I hung up on Prowl when he was upset.  I shouldn’t have done that.”

“There wasn’t anything you could have done,” answered Mirage.  “It was an emergency meeting, the cons are moving again. You had to be there to get the battle information.  Prowl will understand.”

“I know he will but it don’t-”

Alarms blared to a deafening level.  

**“Autobots to battle stations, Praxis has been attacked.”**

Mirage and Jazz stared at each other for seconds before rushing to their battle stations.  Their rations of energon left forgotten on the table along with so many others, as Jazz and Mirage made it to the command room.  Optimus, Elita, and Ratchet already waiting.

“How bad is it?” asked Jazz desperate for an answer.

Prime was silent as was Elita.  

“How bad is it?” demanded Jazz

Ratchet was the first one to step forward.  “The city is gone Jazz. We’re sending out teams but the destruction… there was no warning.”

Jazz was silent for a long while, a whirlwind of emotions traveling through his chest and his helm.  It felt like whiplash, he was dizzy, he felt like he was going to purge. He stared at Ratchet a moment then to Prime.  He was angry, he was angry at Prime, at Elita, at every one who refused to allow him to go see Prowl, the last conversation they had Jazz had hung up on him, they had fought.

“I’m going,” stated Jazz.

“Going where?” asked Optimus.

“Praxis.  I’m going.”

“No you’re not.  You should stay here, there is nothing you can do-”

“It’s a good thing I ain’t askin’ then isn’t?  I have given the Autobots too much already Optimus.  I don’t care if you discharge me from duty. I am not going to let you or the Autobots have this.  I’m going to find Prowl and I’m going to find Tune with or without your permission.”

Elita holds her hand up in an effort to stop him. She almost calls out stepping forward, a dark blue and red servo rests on her own.  “Let him go. The others will just work around him.”

Jazz stomped out of the command room, Mirage following his commander.  “You want me to go with you?” asked Mirage.

“No.  You’re in charge of Spec Ops while I’m gone Raj.  Stay here, watch Tyger Pax. If they hit Praxis then Tyger Pax is next.”

Mirage only nodded and followed his commander and friend to the main doors, waving him good bye as he transformed and Drove out to the ruined city-state.

***

It took Jazz about two days no stopping to get to Praxis.  The rescue teams had been there surveying for any kind of life from the rubble.  Autobot rescue teams doubled up and wandered, lifting up beams and concrete attempting to find anyone alive, anyone to save.  They had been at it for at least two days. Everyone was tired and cranky. Jazz though he couldn’t give up not until he found at least something that could tell him what happened to Prowl or Tune.  

Once inside the city border Jazz went straight for the first aid tent.  “Prowl!” he shouted disturbing the three mecha they had already found and were attempting to get stabilized.

Triage nodded to Meltdown, as he worked on welding a victims side back together.  “Jazz, come with me,” rushed the medic. They needed Jazz out of the room. He sat the commander at a mostly empty table, a map showing all the major places they’ve already searched through, a data pad containing names of Praxis’ citizens to be deemed dead or alive.  A medic likely having worked a whole 24 hour shift tried to catch some recharge in the corner to go back out there when he woke from recharge.

“So?” asked Jazz hesitantly.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, if Meltdown was sitting him down like this it couldn’t have been good news.  He was tense and the silence while in reality was short to Jazz it felt like an eternity. Millions of scenarios went through his helm, all bad, all the bad news the medic could tell him and all of it causing his spark to ache horribly.

“We-we haven't found them yet,” stated Meltdown.

Jazz was frozen for a while Meltdown almost thought he would need to have a hard reboot done to him to get him out of whatever loop he was in.  Out of all the things that Meltdown could have told him nothing had prepared him for the fact that they hadn’t found Prowl or Tune. “What do you mean you haven’t found him?  Prowl was days away from emergence! He was going to have Tune practically any minute and that was three days ago! What if he’s already had Tune? Whats going to happen to them?  We need to find them!”

“Whoa Jazz calm down,” stated Meltdown.  He grabbed the Spec ops mech before he could jump away from the table.  “We have teams out there round the clock looking. If any one is going to find them it’ll be him.  According to the Database Prowl was living in Sector Omega. You can start look there.”

Jazz nodded and started making his way to the sector that Meltdown had pointed out.  He felt dizzy as he made his way to sector Omega. Buildings that had once shined and stood so tall nothing more than rusted debris some covered in energon, Jazz wasn’t able to tell which ones had been apartments or businesses or houses.  It was all a mangled mess and it was surprising that anything came out alive. It hurt his spark to admit that.

Hours passed as he dug through the rubble, I beams and concrete walls pushed to the side as him and several others cleared the area.  Jazz stopped seeing a grey servo underneath some cables, likely to a lift. He signed staring at the hand, it made no movements and he knew the mech attached hadn’t made it.  This was a huge hit to moral, he wasn’t sure there was any going back after this.

“Jazz! Jazz!  We found him!”

Jazz stopped his small prayer for the fallen Praxian and stood looking in the direction his name had been called.  He didn’t want it to be the worst possible news he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Maybe he should have listened to the other commanders.  They pulled out a familiar frame, his pristine white plating covered in dust and energon. 

“Frag!  He’s still alive!  Get him to Triage now!”

Jazz rushed to his mate, the announcement that he was still alive both came as a great relief as well as a sharp pain.  How could he have survived this? The rescue crew laid Prowl on his side, trying not to disturb the shrapnel in his abdominal plates, His leg crushed, and his arm had been sawed off.  Jazz took Prowls servo in his own and he let something wash over him, all emotions he couldn’t describe but tears ran down his face. “Prowler.”

Prowls optics flicked to the voice, one he recognized, “Jazz, I’m sorry.”  His voice groggy and tired. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. He continued to repeat the two words as time went on he regressed into Praxian.

“Hush Prowler, you got nothin’ to be sorry for, just hush.  The docs coming for you.”

Prowl continued the mantra, even as Triage approached, his medical kit heavy with new supplies.  “Jazz move. I need room.” Triage kneeled down and put Prowl into stasis and started working his way through Prowls injuries.  

“THe Leg, arm, and wing will have to wait till we get to base, I’m going to close up the other wounds and I’ll see what I can do about everything else.”

***

Jazz sat next to Prowl, still unconscious.  Triage said it would take some time for Prowl to come out of his stasis.  There was a part of Jazz that hoped Prowl would stay in stasis, but there was a different part of him that knew Prowl couldn’t stay this way, couldn’t stay not knowing what happened to Tune.  

Jazz frowned, the small frame too young to know much of anything.  A frame that should have been babbling and learning sat under a tarp, gray and lifeless, cold.  Rigor mortis had set in on the frame and Jazz he couldn’t take knowing Tune was somewhere in this tent, with 50 other dead Praxians.  Tune would be given a proper burial with the others.

Jazz just held Prowls Servo, the only one left. He kissed his mates hand, and pressed Prowls hand to his helm, how was he going to tell Prowl about Tune?  How was he going to take it? All of this hassle all for this?

Jazz sighed, and looked away.  ANother group of survivors was incoming, another team would head out soon enough.  He was somewhat glad that they were given some privacy, he knew it wouldn’t last long, once this room was full they would need more space, they’d bridge these patients to Ratchets medical and bring more in here.

Prowls engine turned over and Jazz glanced back up to him on the cot.  Welds decorated his frame, he was more weld than plating at this point.  “Jazz,” greeted Prowl groggily. He tried to focus in on his mate, only to find it too tiring, he’d just have to settle for looking in his general direction.

“Prowler.  Babe,” said Jazz.  He tried to make it seem light but it came out heavy.  “Prowl there is something I need to tell you.”

Prowl saw the sad smile grace his mates face, that couldn’t have been a good thing.  Jazz almost never smiled like that. Prowl had never seen Jazz smile like that.

“Prowl there isn’t an easy way to tell you this,” started Jazz slowly.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to continue, he wasn’t sure he could continue. “Tune didn’t make it.”

Jazz didn’t know how else to put it.  THere was no amount of beating around the bush that would make the news any easier to hear.  It was possible that he had been too blunt, but Prowl had always wanted to hear things bluntly.  He never wanted to be coddled, maybe Jazz should have tried harder to come up with a way to ease the news a bit more, if it was even possible.

Prowl was silent for a long while, Jazz wasn’t sure what to do.  He also wasn’t sure how Prowl would react once the news finally hit him.  Prowl turned his helm to Jazz, optics filled with coolant. “I’m sorry forgive me,” begged Prowl in his native language.  

Jazz stood from the chair he was sitting on, hovering over Prowl, wrapping his arms around the black and white Praxian.  He was careful not to exasperate the Praxians injuries. He let Prowl morn to cry out the loss of the sparkling that he had given everything for, his rank, his purpose, he lover.  He continued to beg in his native language. Jazz wasn’t fluent in Praxian, but he knew parts of what Prowl was saying.

“Prowler, there is nothing to be forgiven for.  You didn’t do anything wrong.” Prowl lifted himself up, clutching to Jazz with his remaining servo.  They cried for a long while. Until Prowl offlined exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster of losing a child Prowl never got to hold, but spent months with developing with in his own forge.

That was how Triage found them hours later, Prowl recharging with dried tears on his face, Jazz curled protectively around his mate, in a few hours they’d make another drop off to Iacon for patients.

***

The next time Prowl woke up he was back in Iacon with Ratchet.

“Ah, sleeping beauty, I see you’ve woken up.  How do you feel?”

He had to reset his optics the bright lights were harsh on his stressed systems.  He winced. “What am I doing here?”

“You’re here because Praxis was raided by the Decepticons.  You and several others are here until the Prime can find out what you all want to do and send you where you want to go,” explained Ratchet.  “You’ll be here a while Prowl.”

“I have a headache,” stated Prowl.

Ratchet nodded, “just rest for a while Prowl, I’ll turn off the lights.  You’re roommates going to be coming out of surgery in a little while.”

Prowl hummed pulling the blanket up ofer hi shoulder with his one servo and watching Ratchet walk out of the room and turn off the harsh lights in his room.  He went back into a light recharge, a few hours later medics rolled in a berth with a youngling on it.

He angled the bed so he was sitting up right, once they got the bed into place, Prowl looked over.  The youngling was barely big enough to be in a bed like that. He looked so small. He was Praxian had two door wings a red chevron, red accents on his gray frame.  He wondered what they were going to do with him.

One of the nurses reached for the curtain, Prowl put his hand up to stop the nurse from separating his optics from the sparkling in the bed next to him.   “No thats fine, dont bother.” THe nurse nodded and walked away.

Prowl tried to be quiet as the youngling recharged, he had a novel that Jazz had downloaded onto a data pad to keep him busy while he was in med bay.  About half way through the 5th chapter the youngling squirmed. He was waking up from stasis. 

“Who are you?” asked the youngling.

“Prowl.  You?”

“Bluestreak.”

THere was a bit of an awkward pause.  Before the youngling started talking again.  “People always say my names weird because I dont have a speck of blue on me.  They say I should be called Silverstreak, but I think Bluestreaks better.”

Prowl chuckled, “Bluestreak is a better name.”

They talked, well Bluestreak talked, Prowl listened.  They continued their interactions until Bluestreak got his dinner and went down for a nap.  Prowl had been sipping on his own cube, waiting for Jazz to come visit him once his shift was done.  He smiled thinking about what he and Bluestreak had talked about. 

Half way through the novel Prowl heard crying coming from the bed next to his.  He turned off the data pad and looked to Bluestreak. “Blue? Bluestreak? Are you okay?” he asked.  Prowl pushed the table away from him, allowing him to swing his legs off the side of the bed. “Blue?”

The sparkling began trembling, crying out, Prowl dropped to the floor, his legs not healed enough to lift himself, alarms went off as soon as he left the bed, he crawled over to Blue and lifted himself onto Bluestreaks bed.  With his good servo he ran a digit over the younglings red chevron. “Blue sparkling, wake up. It’s only a dream. You’re okay.”

The sparklings optics light up with a fire, the trembling and crying stop for a moment before he clings to Prowls brush guard crying out harder than he had in his recharge.  Prowl wraps an arm around the sobbing sparkling as a team of nurses rush into the room. “You’re okay,” repeated Prowl in Praxian.

“Prowl, you can’t just-”

“Please stay,” begged Bluestreak.

The nurses watched for several moments as Prowl comforted the sparkling.  This was something that was going to haunt the sparkling till their very last days.  Prowl looked to the crowd of nurses but kept the sparkling against his frame, “You can leave, I promise I won’t get up again without assistance.”

It was another few moments before the nurses all left leaving Prowl and BLuestreak in their shared room,  BLuestreak got comfortable once more as his systems calmed down near Prowls. Prowl settled next to BLuestreak on the bed, Bluestreak was the first to fall into recharge, then Prowl soon followed.  That was how Jazz found them hours later after his shift. Bluestreak curled up against Prowl, and Prowl content recharging contently for the first time in what seemed like ages for Jazz.

Jazz smiled, maybe the sparkling would be good for the two of them.  He would have to talk to Prowl about adopting the orphan. Blue couldn’t replace Tune but Bluestreak would be doing a world of good for all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I might make a second chapter to this.


End file.
